Jaime wanted to see Cersei alone. This was their one last chance of repairing their torn relationship. He had to know whether she was still being unfaithful to him. Jaime had never counted Robert as a lover. Cersei would do everything she could to prevent them from coupling. What she did with the fat oaf was out of duty, and Jaime had never needed to worry about Robert coming between them.

Jaime stared at his appearance in the mirror. He was getting older, and grey hairs were poking through his once golden mane. To hide them, he had cut his hair short, but all it had done was make it look like a dirty blond. He had also taken to growing a beard of late, ever since Joffrey died. His own grief at not preventing Joffrey's death, had caused him untold shame. The beard was his mask. To hide his own complicity in his son's death by not being there.

Since removing his white cloak, Jaime had taken to wearing a burgundy leather doublet, similar to one his father sometimes wore. Now, as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, he could see how much he resembled the old lion, and how little he and Cersei reflected one another.

Jaime made his way down the corridor to see Cersei and have it out with her once and for all. If there was to be closure on their relationship, mayhaps it would be easier for him to take a wife. As he approached Cersei's chambers, Ser Osmund Kettleblack walked through her door with a satisfied smirk on his face.

Was Cersei fucking Ser Osmund Kettleblack as well? He wondered. That rules him out from being Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

"I'm here to see my sister," Jaime's voice was cool and detached.

"I believe her grace has been expecting you."

Ser Osmund opened the door, and Jaime entered the room. The sickly smell of spiced wine permeated the air of the empty solar. However, Cersei soon appeared. His sister had put aside her black mourning gown for one of a deep blood red and gold brocade, with sleeves of golden Myrish lace. An oval ruby hung on a golden chain about her neck. An ostentatious show of wealth as opposed to his more minimal attire. In her hand was her customary golden goblet, filled with wine.

Has she just changed her clothes because she was fucking Ser Osmund? How many other men had she taken to her bed? Lancel, now Ser Osmund, who else, Moon Boy?

"I hoped you would have tired of that wretched beard. It makes you look like Robert."

Jaime suppressed the desire to roll his eyes. Was that why she wouldn't touch him, because he reminded her of Robert?

"Robert's beard was black."

"And yours will soon be silver." Cersei grabbed hold of his beard and examined his face. "You've changed since Joffrey died. What happened to my golden lion? That burgundy colour is draining from you, brother." She pushed his face and stepped away, turning from him. "You are no longer a member of the Kingsguard. You should be garbed in crimson and gold."

Jaime knew he was a fool, for no matter her barbs, he still wanted to kiss her, carry her to her bedchamber, throw her on the bed. Then he reminded himself she'd been fucking Ser Osmund on that same bed only moments ago.

"How many?" he asked.

"You need to be more specific brother. Grey hairs in your beard? Days in a moon…"

"How many men have you been fucking?"

"Nobody of consequence," she replied. "They were necessary. Just a means to an end."

A sudden surge of anger burned through Jaime. He stepped towards his sister and grabbed her face in his hand.

"I have been faithful to you for our entire lives," he growled. "I endured you fucking Robert, for you had no choice in the matter. Since his death, we have spent little time together."

He pushed her away. Cersei rubbed her face where his fingers had dug in.

"How could we? Father is here. There were too many eyes on us, thanks to Stannis Baratheon."

"We managed well enough under Robert."

"Father isn't Robert!"

"No, he is even less inclined to believe the gossip." Jaime ran his fingers through his short hair. "I don't know you anymore, dear sister. Were you the one to give the order to have Robert's bastards murdered? I always thought it was Joffrey."

"I was protecting our son. Something you failed to do."

"They were children."

"And children grow into adults. They were a threat to our son. To our family."

"And what about the Tyrells? Are they a threat? Was Tyrion a threat?"

"Everyone is a threat. I trust no one."

Jaime frowned. "Do you trust me?"

Cersei cast her eyes to the floor and walked towards the balcony, her back to him.

"As I said, I trust no one."

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter," Cersei called out.

Ser Osmund walked in, the smug look on his face still there for Jaime to see.

"The Hand of the King would like to see you both in his solar, your grace. It is a most urgent matter."

Cersei slammed her goblet down on the table and stormed out of the room, and Jaime followed, like the dog he once was. No more, he thought.

⸺⸺⸺◊◊◊⸺⸺⸺

When they arrived at the their father's solar, they found him looking pale. Jaime immediately knew something was amiss.

"Sit!" their father commanded, in a tone which suggested there was to be no arguing with.

"Father, what is it?" Cersei asked.

"The Stone Crow is missing," he replied.

Jaime didn't know what his father was talking about. But judging by the faint pink of Cersei's cheeks, not only did she know, he suspected she had a hand in it.

"What is the Storm Crow?" Jaime asked.

"A ship. The one your brother was aboard."

For a moment, the world stopped. If the ship was missing, it had likely been caught in a storm, and for all he had tried to save his brother, he could have perished at sea.

Jaime glanced over to Cersei, who had already poured herself a goblet of wine. She raised it to her mouth, hiding most of her face. Yet Jaime could not help but see the joy in her emerald eyes. His heart sank. Surely his sister wouldn't have had their brother murdered, would she?

Jaime thought back to their conversation in her chambers. She had admitted to giving the order to kill Robert Baratheon's bastards.

Jaime had only found out about the massacre once he returned to Kings Landing. He had been out of the capital and escorting his brother to Kings Landing from Duskendale after Tyrion's time at the wall. Jaime had never questioned who had ordered their deaths, assuming it was Joffrey's cruelty on full display, but now he knew different.

Cersei was no better than Joffrey. Her cruelty knew no bounds, she had just hidden it from him sultry smile and a warm cunt. If she had ordered Tyrion's death, it would have been no surprise to Jaime. However, he couldn't echo these thoughts in front of his father.

"Have they found any bodies?" Cersei asked. Her voice was casual, yet she couldn't hide the glee in her eyes and voice.

"Why would there be bodies? The ship is merely missing. There was a minor storm, but nothing the Storm Crow couldn't manage. It might yet turn up. If it does, I will consider offering Tyrion a pardon."

The shine from Cersei's eyes disappeared. She snapped her head around and stared at her father.

"Why would you do that?"

"I said I would consider it. If it turns out our source is correct, then Tyrion has no crimes to answer for. I may dislike him, but he has his uses."

"And if the Storm Crow has come to some misfortune?" Cersei asked.

"I would pray to the Seven it hasn't. If they even suspect foul play, it will give them a valid reason to wage war on us. Your immediate reaction to Tyrion's guilt will put you at the forefront of everyone's mind. I must remind you not to take matters into your own hands. Leave Olenna Tyrell alone."

"How could they prove I was involved?" Cersei asked.

"You fool! Proof isn't needed. What proof did you have of Tyrion's guilt when you accused him of murdering your son? Hm?"

Cersei fell silent. Tywin looked to Jaime.

"Have you had any thoughts of whom to appoint to the role of Lord Commander of the Kingsguard?"

In truth, Jaime had initially considered Ser Osmund Kettleblack, but after what he had discovered prior to this discussion, he needed to choose another. But before he had the chance to speak, Cersei offered her own suggestion.

"What about Ser Osmund Kettleblack?"

His father inclined his head. "Ser Osmund seems like a prudent option. However, I wasn't asking you. I was speaking to your brother. Jaime?"

"I was considering Ser Preston Greenfield. He is organised and a loyal servant to the crown. I would trust him with my life. There is another matter I wish to discuss regarding the Kingsguard, father."

"Go on." Tywin said.

"As we have yet to make the new appointments to the Kingsguard official, it would seem we have a shortage of men guarding the King and Queen. There are five Kingsguard, there must be two guarding the King at all time, and the Queen requires at least one guard."

"Of course," his father nodded.

"Ser Osmund is guarding Cersei, which leaves four in charge of the King and Queen."

"And why is that a problem?" Cersei asked.

"They still need to eat, piss, shit and sleep. That is why they rotate the guards. There aren't enough guards to rotate."

Cersei glared at him. "Then they must work longer hours until we appoint the new Kingsguards."

"The Queen mother should have her own sworn swords, not those of the King," his father said.

Cersei sucked in her cheeks. Jaime could tell she was angry, but frankly, he didn't care. She was fucking gods knows how many men, and he suspected she had tried to assassinate their brother. Whether she had been successful was yet to be seen. Jaime had never hated someone so much in his entire life.

"I will write to Lysa Arryn. I wish to know what is happening with the wedding," his father said.

"I will ride for Casterly Rock and raise the banners," Jaime said.

"Good. With every piece of news we receive, war becomes more and more inevitable," Tywin said.

"I will leave at first light," Jaime said.

"I will send twenty of the household guard to accompany you," his father stood and held his hand out, which Jaime shook. "I will send a letter to Kevan. We cannot alert the northerners of our plans. As far as anyone else is aware, you are going to visit your cousin Lancel and his new bride."

"Thank you father," Jaime gave Tywin a smile. "Could you write with any update about Tyrion?"

"Of course. Now go," his father replied.

Jaime walked out, and Cersei followed him without a word. Deciding he didn't want to get into another fight with Cersei, he returned to his own chambers instead of hers.

⸺⸺⸺◊◊◊⸺⸺⸺

Avoiding a fight with Cersei was hopeful on Jaime's part. She followed him down the corridor, with the clanking sound of Ser Osmund's armour behind them both. When the sound stopped, Jaime turned to see Cersei whisper something in Osmund's ear. Once she'd finished, he nodded his head, turned around and walked the other way, whilst Cersei turned to follow Jaime once more.

There was no point in stopping her, so Jaime allowed her to follow him inside his chambers, where he took out a large wooden chest.

"So that's it. You're going to leave me here all alone with the Tyrells?"

Jaime opened one of his drawers and pulled out four tunics, all the while ignoring Cersei.

"You know, the servants will do that for you."

Jaime swung around to face her.

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

"Do what?" Cersei tried to feign innocence as she approached him and stroked his beard. Jaime pushed her hand away.

"Did you order Tyrion's death?"

Cersei chuckled as she poured herself a goblet of wine.

"Do you think so highly of me, you believe I can command a storm?" she asked.

"You might be able to fool father, but you don't fool me," Jaime turned back to packing his clothes for his trip to Casterly Rock.

"It seems I can't," she sighed. "I did it for us. We all knew the northerners were plotting. If he fell into the hands of those barbarians, he would turn against us. Tyrion knows too much. Even if they are only planning for winter, Tyrion would have bent them to his will. They are so stupid, they would go to war if he gave them a good enough excuse."

Jaime turned around. "So you admit it?"

"Of course I do!"

"You had someone sink the ship?"

Cersei shook her head. "Pirates. The ship will be found empty. Everyone and everything of value, gone."

Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You had men of the Nights Watch murdered?"

"What does it matter? Nobody will miss them."

Jaime rolled his eyes. He was supposed to be the stupid one. Tyrion was clever, of that there was no doubt. Cersei claimed to be the cleverest, yet wine was addling her brain, just like Tyrion. Sobriety was Jaime's strength. Wine didn't cloud his judgement.

"Men of the Nights Watch are untouchable. They play no part in matters of the realm. You will gain no favours by murdering them for your own petty revenge."

"Petty revenge?" she cackled. "Tyrion is our enemy. I destroy our enemies."

"You made him your enemy. He was not my enemy. And now you have made more enemies. They will come to destroy us. You have weakened our house. Are you so lost to see it?"

"We have the greater army. And I thought we had the Vale," for the first time Cersei admitted the flaw in her plan. She placed her wine on the table, stood and walked over to him. She cupped her hands over his cheeks and pulled him down into a kiss. She tasted of wine and nutmeg.

Jaime wanted to drown in the kiss. Take her to his bed. Sup on the sweet nectar of her cunt. Warm his cock while being buried inside her. Their bodies writhing together, coated in sweat from lust. Instead, he pulled away, his heart breaking inside. She tried to pull him back, but he grabbed hold of her wrist.

"I can't do this, not anymore," he whispered. Cersei slapped him in the face, but he didn't stop her.

"All of these years we've been together. We were born together, we should be together. We will die together."

Jaime wondered if his sister was losing her sanity. "You took my heart and made sure I gave it to no other. It was spiteful and selfish."

"I put our son on the Iron Throne. I did it for us," Cersei spat.

"You did it for you, for power. Tommen never wanted it. He'd prefer to play with his cats. By attacking the Nights Watch, you've put him and Myrcella in danger. They didn't deserve any of this."

"It takes two to make a child. Robert wasn't capable."

"Then why did he have so many bastards? Was it him or you?"

Cersei slapped him again. Good, Jaime thought. Let her hate him. He wanted to get as far away from her as possible.

"I want you to leave," Jaime pointed to the door. "I have too much to do. Listening to you is slowing me down."

"You can't!"

"Watch me," Jaime said, grabbing hold of her shoulders and pushing her out of the door.

"Goodbye, sweet sister. I will see you upon my return."

He closed the door behind him, locked it, and returned to packing his clothes.

⸺⸺⸺◊◊◊⸺⸺⸺

It was the hour of the nightingale when Jaime, his three squires, and the twenty men of the household guard were readying themselves to leave in the courtyard of the Red Keep. It would take the turn of a moon to ride along the Gold Road to Casterly Rock.

As the sun rose in the sky, Jaime stared up at the Red Keep, his eyes pinned on Cersei's room in Maegor's Holdfast, like he always did when he left Kings Landing. Usually, she would wave him off in some capacity. But their argument the day before had almost certainly put an end to any chance of that. When he saw there was no light coming from her window, his heart dropped.

To take his mind off his separation from Cersei, Jaime checked the harness and saddle on his horse, Honor. When he was happy all was secure, he mounted his destrier and waited for the rest of the company to join him.

Happy everyone was ready to go, Jaime took one last look at the Red Keep, before turning his back on it, and trotting his horse down Aegon's hill, and home to Casterly Rock.